Ain't Nothin' But Right
by LikeTearsInRain
Summary: In the picture perfect suburban community of 1950's Lima, Ohio, Santana Lopez has always wished for something exciting to finally happen in her small, uptight town. Her wish is answered when a blonde haired, blue-eyed greaser moves in across the street and spins her world off its axis. AU - T for now.
1. Cherry Pink (And Apple Blossom White)

_Chapter 1: __Cherry Pink (And Apple Blossom White)_

"_Nunca olvide sus raíces, Santana_." Her father always said to her.

Her parents, Ricardo and Maribel Lopez, had come to this country for opportunity. Her father owned his own auto repair that was once an abandoned and dilapidated building just on the outskirts of town. He had completely renovated and rebuilt the shop from the ground up by himself. Her father had an extremely strong work ethic and it was his main philosophy that hard work is what yields the superior result.A perfect explanation for his success as the sole mechanic in Lima.

Her mother worked as a nurse at the local hospital but got most of her joy from being a homemaker. Maribel Lopez was always ready to volunteer for any and all community events, especially if she was required to prepare food. There was nothing more that woman loved more than cooking. Something that Santana herself had absolutely no complaints about.

Although both her parents were relatively successful, they had both worked extremely hard to get to where they were today and had to face much adversity. Which was why for them, remembering where they came from and making sure their heritage was celebrated was extremely important, something that they made sure to instill in Santana.

It's something she was unlikely to forget with parents like hers. Parents who were currently dancing around their small kitchen like crazy romantic fools to the sounds of big band mambo music crackling from the record player as she helped dice up the vegetables for breakfast.

"You two never quit it, do you?" Santana asked, scooping a handful of chopped tomatoes into a bowl.

Ricardo spun Maribel in a graceful twirl moving them both closer to where Santana was preparing food on the counter top. He twirled Marisol again outwards while reaching his other hand into the bowl to pluck a tomato out, laughing when Santana swatted his hand away and scowled at him.

"One day, Santanita, you will have a husband of your own. Maybe you'll like him more than you like scowling," He teased, and laughed when Santana did just that. He pulled Maribel back onto his arms and wrapped both his arms behind her in a light embrace. "And then you will want to dance with each other at every moment because every time the two of you dance, you fall in love all over again." Ricardo spoke while staring into his wife's eyes, the pair of them retreating back into their own bubble of love.

Santana couldn't help it, she scoffed. She was not interested in falling into the patterns of so many around her. Women whose only concerns bordered on the desperation to marry and become housewives.

Santana wanted more than that for herself.

Which is why she focused all of her attentions to her studies. Getting accepted into university was no small feat for her. Being Hispanic as well as a woman meant she had to work twice as hard as everyone else, and she did. Santana worked hard because that's how her parent's raised her. If she wanted to eventually become a doctor one day, she knew that she would have to work harder than anyone to get there because the odds were already stacked against her.

Her mother of course worried that she was well on her way to becoming some sort of spinster. Santana's lack of suitors always had Marisol warning her that she'll "never find a husband with that attitude".

The truth was, all the boys in Lima were boring. It wasn't that she didn't have suitors that wanted to date her; In point of fact most of the time she was being bombarded by boys in town asking her out. She just wasn't interested. The only boy who couldn't seem to ever take a hint was Noah Puckerman, who had been asking her out on an almost weekly basis to no avail since they attended high school together.

Of course Noah was exactly the type of boy her father approved of: All-American athlete, handsome, charismatic, and the fact that he had served two years in the military practically had Ricardo asking for Noah's hand in marriage himself. Truth be told, Santana had absolutely no interest in anything Noah Puckerman had to offer. Everytime the boy came up to her, he nearly bored her to tears spending all of conversation talking about himself and his exploits. No, he certainly wasn't the man for her.

Santana honestly wasn't sure if she would ever find the right man for her. She was unsure she would ever have the type of romance that was written about in stories. The type of love her own parents had. A love that seemed almost effortless.

The chances of finding someone like that in Lima were slim.

Lima was boring. It was as simple as that. Nothing exciting ever happened in the small picturesque suburban town. Week after week it was always the same thing: People fawning over Mrs. Farley's rose bushes, Mr. Sawyer and Mr. Andrews comparing whose lawn was the best looking on the block, or all the houswives trading recipes for ambrosia salad and deviled eggs during weekly neighborhood block parties. It was all so dull and uninteresting. Just once, Santana wished something exciting would finally happen in Lima.

"_Santana!"_ Maribel called out her, snapping Santana out of her thoughts.

"Sorry, Mami. What?"

"I said you better get moving before you're late for class. "

Santana looked up at the wall clock on the kitchen wall indicating that it was almost time for her leave.

Santana pinned her long, dark locks up in a high ponytail, securing it in place and tying it with a scarf. She slipped on her shoes, grabbed her books of the table and shouted a quick goodbye to her parents before heading out the door.

She walked around to the side of the house to load her books in the basket of her Schwinn ten-speed bicycle and began her ride to university.

She didn't make it very far before something caught her attention.

Santana's bike came to a halt in front of the Schueller house across the street.

In a town where every house on every block was build with the same set of blueprints, the old Schuller house certainly stuck out like a sore thumb.

It had been for sale for a few months after old Mrs. Schueller had passed away. Being a widow and having no apparent relatives the house had been left unmaintained.

For a community that was all about block parties, bake sales, and church group meetings every week, the sight of the Schueller house had been a eyesore that plagued the idyllic community.

The house that Santana had stopped in front of looked nothing like the old Schueller house she had become used to seeing on her daily ride to university.

The adage "Be Careful What You wish For" never seemed more appropriate than it did right then.

The "For Sale" sign had been removed and the lawn that had once been unkempt was now neatly mowed. That wasn't the most startling thing about the house. For parked on the driveway was a sleek Triumph motorcycle that stood next to a pristine black Mercury coupe. Which could only mean one thing:

A greaser had moved to Lima, Ohio.

* * *

Santana arrived home later that day to find her mother at work in the kitchen, stirring custard in a large glass mixing bowl.

"How was school today, mija?" Maribel asked, as her daughter set her books down at the table and took a seat watching her prepare dinner.

"It was good. I have a big lab assignment tomorrow but otherwise it was perfectly fine."

"I'm glad to hear it," Maribel replied, walking over to Santana with the bowl tucked into her side while she continued to stir. "Here," She said, placing the bowl in front of Santana. "Take over for me."

"Hey, have you heard anything about who moved into the old Schueller house?" Santana asked.

"Oh wouldn't you believe it! Apparently Mrs. Schueller had some family after all. Rumor has it her grandson was given the house in her will...or maybe it was her nephew, I'm not sure."

"And you know this, because?"

"Mrs. Lawrence from next door said she spotted him working on his car this afternoon. In fact, I think he might still be out there tinkering with it. Your father wouldn't stop talking about it when he got home."

"You wouldn't be talking about that Mercury in the driveway of th Schueller house would you?" Ricardo asked, walking in the room stopping to place a kiss on his wife's cheek. "A car like that takes a lot of work. She's a real beauty."

Maribel hit him on the shoulder with a dishrag. "You and your cars. Sometimes I think you love them more than me."

Ricardo curled his arm around her waist and pulled her close, planting a chaste kiss on her lips. "Never."

"Mami...Papi..._please." _Santana said, exasperated with her parents constant lovey-dovey displays of affection.

"Oh hush, mija. One day when you find yourself a love of your own you won't find it so disgusting."

"I will always find it disgusting, because you are my _parents_." She stressed, while purposely ignoring her mother's comment about her love life, or lack thereof. "You know Mami, you really need to stop listening to Mrs. Lawrence's gossip. She spends all of her spare time staring out her living room window with a pair of binoculars. That woman needs a hobby." Santana said, getting up to being the mixing bowl back over to her mother.

"Joan's harmless." Maribel assured her, pouring the custard mixture into a baking dish.

"She may be harmless, but that doesn't mean anything she says is true." Santana argued. "I mean she's never even spoken to this guy, how would she know if he was Mrs. Schueller's grandson or her nephew?"

"You're absolutely right, Santana." Maribel replied thoughtfully.

"I am?"

"Oh yes. In fact, I don't believe anyone has been over there to welcome that young man to the neighborhood properly."

"Oh no."

"Because you are so thoughtful about our new neighbors well-being, you can bring him this flan when its done baking and welcome him yourself." Maribel placed the flan in the oven and set the timer, turning around to smirk at Santana who knew there was no way she was getting out of this.

"This is why I need to stop opening my mouth." She muttered under her breath.

* * *

Santana walked up to the driveway of the Schueller house. Balancing her mother's homemade flan carefully in her hands she couldn't help feeling like an absolute idiot. She normally wasn't the type for cordial greetings and pleasantries. She left that duty to her mother who got the utmost enjoyment out of gossiping and fawning all over the neighbors.

Using one hand, she carefully smoothed her skirt down and tugged on the bottom of her red cardigan straightening out her clothes before taking a deep breath and continuing up the driveway.

Getting closer to the large black Mercury she noticed a slim pair of legs encased in a dark pair of jeans that were cuffed over a pair of clunky motorcycle boots sticking out from under the car.

Santana stood awkwardly beside the vehicle, still holding the homemade dessert carefully in her hands. She loudly cleared her throat to draw attention to herself since the man underneath the car did not seem to notice her presence in the slightest.

She heard the clattering of a wrench being placed on the ground as the body beneath the vehicle stilled and slowly rolled out from underneath.

From her vantage point, Santana could see toned arms grasp the rounded chrome bumper as they slowly pulled themselves forward. All Santana saw was a slim torso covered in a tight white t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up until the breath was ripped straight from her lungs when the stranger's face was finally revealed.

It seems as if her mother and that gossiping Mrs. Lawrence had gotten their facts completely wrong.

Expressive cat-like eyes raked over her body taking in Santana's nervous posture as she stood there holding a platter while staring at her like a deer in headlights.

Her long blonde hair was swept up into a pompadour on the top of her head that flowed back into a neat French braid that draped over her right shoulder. There were small grease smudges over her forehead and her nose and cheeks were lightly dusted with freckles. Santana had never seen anyone, let alone another girl, that looked like this in her entire life.

The other girls mouth curled up into a smirk and Santana shook herself out of her stupor as their eyes finally locked.

Santana nearly dropped the flan all over the concrete driveway in shock when the girl finally addressed her.

"Hi there," The blonde drawled, revealing a dazzling smile and sparkling blue eyes. "What can I do for you, sugar?"


	2. Wild, Wild Women

Chapter 2: Wild, Wild Women

Santana stood there motionless gaping at the girl still lying on the wooden mechanic's creeper in the driveway. Her hands clenched tighter on the tray in her hands as the blonde girl got up off the ground to stand in front of her. Santana was sure she had never felt more self conscious in her life as she felt the other girls eyes scan up and down her body. At an utter loss for what to say and not wanting to look even more like a fool than she probably had already come across, she blurted out the first thing she could think of.

"I brought a flan." She stuttered out lamely before her eyes widened in embarrassment. If her hands weren't full with a 'Welcome to the Neighborhood' gift, Santana was certain they would be covering her mouth in mortification. The blonde girl gripped the sides of the creeper and pushed herself upright, finally standing in front of Santana. If Santana thought that this girl looked intimidating lying down then she certainly wasn't prepared for her standing directly in front of her, her height not the only thing eclipsing Santana's presence. The only thing that made her less intimidating was the utter look of confusion on her face that had Santana not been feeling like a nervous wreck, would have found quite funny.

"Fran? Who's Fran?"

"What?...No..Um.._flan," _Santana corrected her, lifting the tray to closer to the girl in offering. "It's a traditional Spanish dessert. My mother made it. And then she made me come over here so I could give it to you. " She informed her, watching as the other girl removed a red handkerchief from her back pocket and started wiping away the grease stains on her hands with it. Santana realized how that must have sounded but before she could correct herself the girl had already spoken.

"Well, that was very sweet of of her. To make you come all the way over here, just to say hi to little ol' me." the girl drawled, leaning forward to take a closer peak at the unfamiliar food on the tan girls tray. "I just love dessert, don't you?" The blonde lifted her eyes up to meet Santana's and winked. Santana nearly dropped the tray.

Santana felt her heart rate increase at the girls proximity and proceeded to become even more nervous and flustered if it were even possible. She had absolutely no idea what had come over her. Maybe the other girl's brazen behavior was completely throwing her off because she obviously wasn't from around here and Santana just wasn't used to it. Yes, that had to be it. To top things off she had probably come across as rude from how she phrased things and now this girl probably thought she was a complete idiot.

"She just wanted, I mean...wait," She shook her head. "Do you think I can I start over?"

"Sure sugar, should I get back underneath the car and roll back out again?"

Santana honestly wished the ground would open up and swallow her whole. She managed to make a complete fool out of herself within minutes upon meeting this girl and wished that she could just disappear into thin air. It was a mistake to come here, a fact that she was going to make known right now before she could embarrass herself even further.

"Look, this was a mistake. I'm sorry. I'm just going to leave this with you and pretend this never happened." Santana took the tray she was holding and shoved it into the blonde arms, quickly turning around so she could get back to her house and stay in her room for the rest of her life so she never had to embarrass herself like this again. She was stopped before she could go very far by a slender hand gripping her elbow.

"Why would you want to go and do a thing like that now? I was only teasing ya. Here," She gently placed the tray Santana had hastily shoved into her hands onto the roof of her black Mercury Coupe, her hands now free to offer one out for Santana to shake in a formal greeting. "My name is Brittany S. Pierce from Memphis, Tennessee and who might you be?"

Santana looked at the girls extended hand briefly before hesitantly extending her own and grasping the girls pale hand in hers. Brittany's hands felt rough and calloused under her own and she felt her stomach lurch at the contact. "Santana Lopez from Lima, Ohio."

"Santana Lopez." Brittany echoed, smiling as she shook Santana's hand in greeting. Santana decided that she liked the way her name sounded when Brittany said it in her accent. "It's nice to make your acquaintance." Brittany said, finally letting go of the girls hand and giving her a little bow.

Santana giggled cutely at the formality. "It's nice to meet you too, Brittany."

"Now, why don't we try this again Sugar. Except this time, maybe we should go inside because I think one of my new neighbors across the street has been staring at us through a pair of binoculars since you got here."

Santana turned her head to see what Brittany was referring to and sure enough there was Mrs. Lawrence, peeking out through the gap in her blinds with a pair of binoculars staring right at them. Santana rolled her eyes. When would that woman ever give up?

"That's just old Mrs. Lawrence. Spying on the neighborhood just so happens to be a regular past time of hers."

"So I see," Brittany said, looking over Santana's shoulder to give Mrs. Lawrence a little wave. Santana just laughed at Brittany's antics.

"So," Brittany said, turning around to grab the dessert tray off the roof of her car. "Why don't we go inside and have some of this treat you so kindly brought over and get to know each other a little better,"

"Okay." Santana said softly, following closely behind Brittany as she was led inside the greaser's house.

* * *

"So what brings you town like Lima? Being from a big city like Memphis and all..."

"Well, darlin', You were just lookin at her." Brittany said taking a seat at her kitchen table as Santana served them both a slice of the flan on the plates Brittany had pulled out for them.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"The car, darlin'. It was my grandmothers." Brittany explained. "I was in Tennessee when I got a phone call letting me know that she had passed. I was right sad about it for awhile. Then a couple of days later I got a call from this lawyer, sayin' that he was calling about matters that pertained to settling my grandmother's estate. Two weeks later I find myself the proud owner of this house and that black beauty sitting outside."

"I'm sorry to hear about your grandmother. Mrs. Schueller was a nice lady." Santana said politely, placing a plate with a sliver of flan in front of Brittany and taking the seat opposite of her.

"Now now, it's not nice to tell lies darlin'. I know my gran wasn't the sweetest of ladies, but I reckon she was just sad being alone so much." Brittany shrugged.

"Well, I never spoke to her myself," Santana admitted, "I only know what I've been told. People in this town like to talk, you know."

"Oh, people everywhere love to talk, sugar. Trust me, it's not just here."

"How old are you Brittany?" Santana couldn't help but be curious about Brittany's age given that she now owned this house and a car all to herself.

"I'm twenty-four."

"That seems so young to be all by yourself."

"I've been getting along by myself for a long time," Brittany spoke as if lost in thought but quickly pulled herself from it. "But, enough of this sad talk. I believe I have some of your dessert to try."

Santana couldn't have been more pleased when Brittany took her first bite and moaned in approval, glad that she could impress this girl even if it was in the slightest way.

"That's delicious! I can't say I've ever had something like that before. You make sure you tell your mother I said thank you."

Santana felt like Brittany was the biggest conundrum she had ever met. On the outside she looked like a dangerous troublemaker but here she was being so polite about some silly dessert her mother made and Santana felt more confused than ever. Maybe it was because she had never been outside Lima her entire life but Brittany was the most intriguing person she had ever met.

"Well, don't fill yourself up too much. Now that I'm here I have a feeling that half the neighborhood will have plucked up the courage to bring their welcome baskets to your doorstep."

"Should I be afraid?"

"Very." Santana said seriously.

"Well, then I guess I'm glad I saw you first." Brittany said, giving Santana a sweet smile. "If you're anything to go by, I think I'll like Lima very much."

Santana couldn't help but blush, trying to clear the awkwardness she felt with a light cough and promptly changed the subject.

"You seem to know your way around cars pretty well."

"You could say that."

"Are you a hot rodder?"

Brittany's eyebrows rose in surprise. "And what would a thing like you know about racing?"

Santana scoffed, slightly offended at Brittany's comment. She wasn't a total square after all but Brittany was certainly keen on making her feel like one. "My dad is Lima's mechanic. You could say I know a thing or two about cars. For instance, I could tell you quite a few things about that Mercury Coupe you have out there, and even more about your Triumph." A grin slowly spread across Brittany's face.

"You don't say." Brittany let out a cute laugh at that. "I have to admit, I'm impressed. You're different than I thought you'd be Santana Lopez."

"Is that a bad thing?" Santana asked, hesitantly.

"Oh no, I think it's a very good thing," Brittany assured her. "In fact, I think we should spend more time together. Get to know each other better." The more Brittany spoke, the more she moved in closer, causing Santana to swallow thickly. She didn't know why Brittany's proximity made her so nervous but she also wasn't sure that she liked the way it made her feel.

"It's getting late, I-I should go." Santana stuttered, quickly standing up and smoothing her hands over her outfit as if the action would soothe her sky rocketing nerves as well.

"But you just got here," Brittany spoke with disappointment. "Do you have somewhere important that you need to be?"

"Actually, I do. I'm meeting my friend in town in a little while."

"A boyfriend?"

"I don't see how that's any of your business." Santana said starting to become both irritated and nervous at Brittany's interrogation.

"Relax, darlin'. I didn't mean anything by it. I was just curious, is all," Brittany raised her hands in submission. "Where are you meeting your _friend_?"

"Sadie's. It's um, it's a shake shop...in town."

"A shake shop? You don't say." Brittany seemed to become more and more interested by the minute and Santana was struggling to breath. "I just might have to check that out for myself. See all the sights Lima has to offer a gal like me." Brittany was looking at her weirdly and Santana couldn't decipher why

Santana was backing herself up to the front door feeling eerily like prey, Brittany was so unlike any girl she had ever associated with and certainly didn't act the way a proper lady should. Something that both terrified and intrigued her. She needed to get out of there. Brittany's face seemed to be moving closer and closer to hers and she let out a nervous squeak, before letting out a sigh of relief when she realized Brittany was only reaching for the doorknob to let her out.

"Oh, um thank you." Santana said, stepping out of the way so Brittany could open the door for her. Feeling foolish for thinking Brittany was going to do something to her, although she hadn't the faintest idea what.

"Now that were so well acquainted now, don't you go being a stranger."

"I-I wont. It was nice to meet you Brittany. Maybe we'll see each other again."

"Oh, I'll definitely be lookin' forward to it, Santana." Brittany said, giving Santana one final wink and trying to contain her laughter at the speed the girl was using to hightail it back to her house. She had a feeling she was going to like Lima after all.

* * *

Santana's tongue twirled around the straw of her strawberry milkshake, drinking up some of the confectionery treat as she listened to her best friend Quinn Fabray spill the latest gossip going around the young housewife circuit of Lima.

Quinn usually took some time away from her busy schedule as a homemaker to spend some time with her. Santana appreciated that not only did Quinn manage to find a decent guy to marry, who actually let her have a life outside of her home, he also had no complaint that Quinn spent her time with Santana.

Quinn's parents were not the nicest or most accepting people. Both were members of the church and Quinns father Russel Fabray who was one of the head officials of Lima's town council. They were firm advocates for the segregation of Lima, and although those laws had never passed, Quinn being friends with Santana posed many problems for them. Having distaste for associate with people of color, Quinn's parents had strong opinions about their daughter hanging out with Santana even though she came from a well off and hardworking family who were active members in the community.

It's not that Santana wasn't used to hateful comments and attitudes against her but it was hard for her to be the reason of conflict when it came to Quinn's relationship with her parents. But when it came down to it, Quinn was hard headed and stood her ground about having Santana as her friend, not sharing her parents views in the slightest.

Santana was thankful that Quinn hadn't traded one controlling household for another. While she may not have understood why someone as intelligent as Quinn would forsake going to college and getting an education in favor of marriage she couldn't have picked a better guy for Quinn than Samuel Evans.

Sam didn't try and control every aspect of Quinn's life and seeing the two interact in their household it was clear that Quinn obviously wore the pants in their relationship. Sam was obviously smitten with Quinn, almost as much as he was afraid of her wrath. Santana couldn't help but agree with him though, Quinn's anger was not something you wanted to be on the receiving end of.

Now sitting in Sadie's Shake Shop, the plush red vinyl of the circular stools stuck to Santana's palms as she spun to face Quinn who had begun questioning her about Lima's newest addition to the neighborhood.

"Rumor has it, Lima has gotten its very first greaser," Quinn whispered conspiratorially, as if what she was talking about hadn't been spoken through the mouths of every individual in Lima by now. Those gossip circles certainly held up their reputation. "I overheard Mrs. Mason saying that he used to be in a gang all the way in New York City!"

Santana blanched, still confused over how everyone in town still though Brittany was a guy. Aside from the way she dressed, which Santana had to admit was rather odd from a girl living in Lima, her features were anything but masculine.

"He's not a he, Quinn. Her name is Brittany, and she's from Memphis, Tennessee, actually." Santana informed her matter-of-factly.

"You TALKED to hi- her?" Quinn screamed at her, startling he patrons sitting on the stools and in the booths around them.

"Will you lower your voice?" Santana hissed, noticing that Quinn's outburst had drawn the attention of practically half the people in Sadie's Shake Shop. "And yes, I talked to her. My mom made me bring over some of her homemade flan. It wasn't a big deal so don't go getting yourself into a tizzy over it."

It was a pretty big deal actually, but Santana certainly didn't want to let Quinn onto that fact. If she were being honest. Santana thought that Brittany moving into town wasn't just the most exciting thing to happen in Lima for a long time but the most exciting thing to happen to her in well, ever.

"Santana, of course this is a big deal. It's all anyone in Lima can talk about! And you're the first person to actually talk to her. I mean, obviously because everyone else thinks that she's a he!"

"I don't know how that's possible. She's way too pretty to be a guy." Santana's eyes grew wide and a blush crept up over her cheeks as she realized what she just said.

"So she's pretty then? What does she look like?" Quinn pressed for information, not finding anything out of the ordinary about Santana's statement. Santana didn't understand why she felt so weird about it herself.

Santana was saved from Quinn's interrogation when a loud rumbling could be heard outside and the attention of everyone in Sadie's was drawn outside the window of the shake shop to see the greaser in question pull up and park her bike in front of the shop.

"Holy smokes," Quinn breathed. "Is that?..."

"Yeah." Santana replied, dazed by the sight of Brittany swinging her leg to unstraddle her bike and removing her helmet to shake her long braid out from underneath it. She had never seen a girl possess so much confidence and attitude. The amount of recklessness and energy that Brittany exuded was intimidating. Santana felt herself flush when Brittany's eyes locked with hers through the shop window causing the blonde to smirk in her direction before heading inside the shop.

"Santana she's coming over here," Quinn whispered. She sounded slightly panicked at the thought of having any sort of communication with the greaser.

Santana could only concentrate on the fact that Brittany was walking towards her and how plain and uninteresting she felt in her presence. Brittany had probably been around so many hip people coming from a city like Memphis. There was no way that she would want to be friends with someone like Santana Lopez, the colored girl who brought her flan, and participated in church bake sales and block parties. How could Santana ever hope to compare to the interesting people Brittany most likely associated with. People who rode motorcycles and drive fast cars and smoked cigarettes and listened to Rock n' Roll music. Santana has never felt more like a square in her entire life.

And yet, here Brittany was. Standing in front of Santana in Sadie's Shake Shop with every pair of eyes fixated on them like they were a newspaper headline come to life.

"Santana, fancy meeting you here." Brittany said with a smirk.

Santana's eyes narrowed, Brittany knew very well that she was going to be here and Santana wasn't sure what she was playing at.

"Brittany, this is my friend Quinn." Santana said, pointing behind her to a pale looking Quinn, whose eyes widened upon the mention of her name and looked like she had eaten something terrible.

"Nice to meet you Quinn, I'm Brittany." Brittany spoke politely, nodding in the other blonde's direction. Santana couldn't help but feel uncomfortable at everyone in Sadie's privy to their conversation. Brittany however seemed to have no such compunction as she came over next to where Santana was seated and straddled the red vinyl stool in a very unladylike manner. The cuffs of her denim 501s riding up to real the tops of her red converses.

"That looks tasty." Brittany said, peering over at Santana's milkshake. "That vanilla?"

"S-Strawberry." Santana replied, dumbly.

"Oooh even sweeter. I think I'll have me one of those." Brittany was about to raise her hand to call over the waitress behind the counter but was interrupted by the door chime ringing as the shop door opened to reveal an obnoxiously loud voice.

"Well, now what do we have here?" A tall boy with well coiffed hair, wearing a letterman jacket spoke as he walked in, surrounded by a group of other boys. Santana knew this couldn't possibly be good.

Noah Puckerman may have had everyone else in this town fooled into thinking he was a stand-up gentleman but Santana definitely knew better. Noah showing up with Brittany here meant things would only lead to trouble. "Hey greaser! Is that your bike sitting out there?"

Brittany smirked, tossing her long braid over her shoulder before spinning around on her stool to address him. When she finally turned around, all the guys standing at the front of the shop, Noah Puckerman, included gasped. "Yep, thats my bike alright."

"A girl!" Noah sputtered out, before doubling over in laughter. "The greaser is a girl! Of all the ridiculous things I've ever heard of."

The rest of Noah's goons soon followed with their laughter and Santana just stared at Brittany, whose face had hardened with the fierce look she was shooting at the group of men.

"I'm surprised you can even tie your shoes in the morning, let alone comprehend the though of a chick rodder. You don't look none too bright."

Noah's face clouded over in anger as a few of Sadie's patrons giggled at the girl's jab something that Noah certainly look like he appreciated. "What did you say to me, freak?"

"Go away. Noah." Santana finally decided to speak up, wanting to put an end to this spectacle. "Stop causing trouble when there wasn't any to begin with. Your acting like a fool."

"You shouldn't be hanging around trash like this, Santana." Noah spat. "Your father would agree with me."

"You have no say in who I spend my time with Noah." Santana coolly informed him. "And you certainly don't speak for my father. Now why don't you do us all a favor and leave."

"I'm not going anywhere." Noah said, beginning to move closer to where Brittany was seated and pointed angrily at her. "Not until she leaves! She doesn't belong here."

Brittany just sat there silently, a stony look on her face as she regarded Noah with a look of pure contempt. She had no intention of leaving especially with this jock coming in here like he owned the joint and took to insulting her. Brittany normal liked everybody but she didn't take too kindly to being insulted. It didn't look like she had much choice in the matter though, as the owner of Sadie's came up to the counter behind her to address the situation that grabbed the attention of everyone in the shop.

"I'm sorry, Miss," Mr. Mayberry, and older man wearing a white apron and a wedged cap, spoke up behind Brittany. "But I'm going to have to ask you to leave. We don't want any trouble here."

"This is ridiculous!" Santana yelled at Mr. Mayberry. "Brittany didn't even do anything! It's all his fault!" Santana pointed at Noah who had a smug expression on his face that Santana wanted to wipe off.

"It's all right darlin'" Brittany spoke softly, placing a soothing hand over Santana's. "I'll leave."

"But-" Santana began protesting.

"Don't worry. I'll definitely be seein' you around." She leaned forward the slightest bit to whisper into the brunette's ear, enjoying the look of pure rage that crossed Noah's face at her action.

"It was nice meeting you, Quinn."

Brittany threw a final wave over her shoulder before making her way past Noah and his friends, all eyes on her and she walked out of the shop. She swung her leg over the seat of the black Triumph, the motorcycle revving to life before she lifted her other leg off the ground and rode off away from the shop, leaving a cloud of dust in her wake.

"Well," Quinn said, breaking the silence. "That was certainly interesting."


End file.
